


Lullaby of Stars

by Hevheia



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Prophecy, True Love, well more of a bittersweet ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-02-06 19:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12824238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hevheia/pseuds/Hevheia
Summary: AU where Viktor is the God of Thought who meets the God of Sleep in the room of a human child one night. But nothing goes without consequences.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to the wonderful [Agasthiya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agasthiya/pseuds/Agasthiya) for her kindness and encouraging words! <3

“Why do the gods make people do bad things, Mommy?”

“The gods don’t make us do anything, darling, people do that all on their own.”

“But why do the gods allow it?”

“Because something happened to the only one who could stop them.”

“Who?”

“Viktor Nikiforov.”

“Viktor? I don’t understand, what could happen to a god?”

“A lot can happen to a god, my love. Let me tell you a story.”

*****

“Silence please, the gathering has begun,” Yakov barked, slamming his hand twice on the marble surface. The gods around the table fell silent, they knew better than to challenge Yakov’s temper. Sometimes Viktor wondered if Yakov wasn’t actually the God of Anger and Frustration rather than God of Order.

“Georgi, let’s start with you,” Yakov said, completely ignoring the usual niceties and customs to start a gathering --not that they were really ‘usual’ anymore since Yakov skipped them every time. 

Georgi stood up from his seat close to Yakov’s around the earth-shaped table. “Thank you, Yakov,” he said with a little nod, and continued with informing the other gods of the state of affairs of the temples and offerings. It wasn’t much different from the last gathering, or the ones before for that matter; people still brought offerings to the temples, still prayed, still held their rituals and festivities in their honour. There was a slight drop in offerings for certain gods, but that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, sometimes certain gods were just more popular than others. 

Afterwards, it was Mila’s and Sara’s turn, who had nothing noteworthy to announce since people in love did what they always had been doing and the marrying-divorce ratio was still more or less the same. After them came Phichit, who told everyone the human population on earth was still increasing and was now at 150 478 226, and that child mortality --even though it was still high-- was decreasing. 

Then it was Mari’s turn, and while she was stating endless numbers of death rates and listing the most frequent causes of death in the past year, Viktor’s eyes wandered to the empty chair beside her. It was supposed to be the chair of her brother Yuuri, but he never attended the gatherings so Viktor always had to stare at the empty space opposite of him.

He had met the God of Sleep exactly once, almost twelve millennia ago. Although ‘met’ was maybe a bit of an exaggeration since it had only been a fleeting encounter without any actual conversation. Dark robes, blushing cheeks, a radiant smile.

They said he used to attend the gatherings, before Viktor was there, but he stopped coming as soon as he realised what he did to the other gods. He had a kind of… side effect, even on other deities. They said he made them feel tired and sleepy, that he distorted their powers, weakened them even. So now, only Mari still saw him, keeping him informed of what was going on with the other gods and vice versa. There had been a time when Phichit had been friends with Yuuri --and Viktor supposed they still were-- but, he too, had to cease all contact with him except for some letters.

Viktor wondered what Yuuri was doing now, how he spent his days. A part of him was always curious for Yuuri, wanted to meet him and talk to him and get to know him, the lonely God of Sleep.

“Viktor!”

Viktor’s head snapped to the source of the sound. Yakov was glaring at him with an annoyed expression on his face. He hadn’t noticed all the other gods between him and Mari standing up to speak and sitting down again when their turn was over.

“A little lost in thought, Viktor?” Christophe said next to him with a smirk.

The other gods around the table laughed, Viktor just rolled his eyes. It had been funny the first time someone made that joke, but after four hundred times it became a little old. He pasted a smile on his face when he stood up, though.

“With the upcoming drought, I gave some of the leaders of the clans living in the danger zones the idea to move to more fertile lands. Other tribes that are in less imminent danger, I gave the idea of irrigation. I have tried this idea before on some civilizations, and it proved to be very efficient and effective. I have also managed to change the minds of the two Northern Clans so they won’t start a war on each other.” After telling the other gods how he planned to solve some other, milder tensions between some clans, he paused for a second. He thought back on the last year, if there was anything else of real importance, but found nothing. “And that’s about it.”

“Thank you, Vitya,” Yakov said as Viktor sat down. “And now, finally, the last one: Christophe, tell us what you’ve got.”

Christophe stood up from his chair gracefully. “Thank you, Yakov,” he said with a wink. “Only one leader has come to one of my temples for a prophecy this year, and as usual, he is doing anything he can now to prevent it. In vain, I’m afraid. Other than that, there were eighty-three noblemen and twenty-two peasants who came for one as well.”

“Grea-”

“No, Yakov, that’s not all.” Gods shifted in their seats, staring at the God of Prophecies with interest, Christophe only ever told them about the new prophecies he had made if there was anything remarkable about them; there hadn’t been a remarkable prophecy in centuries. Christophe paused for a moment longer, and Viktor couldn’t remember the last time he had seen him so serious. A heavy feeling settled in his stomach.

“One of the new prophecies I received… I-” he searched for words, sighed when he couldn’t seem to find the ones he wanted, “I don’t know what it means. Or who it is for.”

Nobody moved, nobody blinked, nobody seemed to be even breathing. It was so quiet you could almost hear the clouds drift by around them. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Yakov snapped when he had processed Christophe’s words. “You’re the God of Prophecies, how can _you_ not know?”

Christophe shrugged, shaking his head a little. “I’m as frustrated as you, Yakov, believe me. I have read it over and over again, I have analysed every word and compared them all with my previous prophecies. And sometimes parts seem to make sense, but if you put them together it’s as confusing as the prophecy itself.”

“Well, let’s hear it then! This _prophecy_ of yours.” 

Christophe nodded and his voice sounded dull and monotonous as he spoke:  
“ _Where darkness meets mystery, thoughts break apart_  
Once it catches fire, the inevitable unfolds  
the known world loses, but two shall finally find”

The silence surrounded them again, more piercing than before, more ominous. Viktor felt as if he was falling, as if somehow, this wasn’t real. One sentence kept repeating itself in his mind: _thoughts break apart_. 

“It’s nothing like any prophecy I’ve ever made before,” Christophe said quietly. “It doesn’t make any sense. It doesn’t even rhyme.”

Viktor looked up from the blue of the sea on the table in front of him, and found two steady, dark eyes on him. Viktor knew the Goddess of Death was lingering on the same part. He wondered if she had maybe seen his name in the stars as well. 

No, I’m a god. Gods are immortal, he told himself, even though he knew it was only half the truth. 

He shifted his gaze to Yakov, who was pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut. “Repeat it,” Yakov said, “Slowly.” And Christophe did. 

This time, there were more glances thrown Viktor’s way, and when Yakov opened his eyes, they immediately landed on him. 

It hung above them, the prophecy, those three words that were undeniably linked to Viktor. Like a dark cloud charged with thunder and lightning. It seemed ready to strike Viktor down.

Viktor felt strange beneath their eyes, beneath the words of the prophecy lingering in the air. He felt almost… afraid. 

He stood up. “I would love to stay for the afterparty, but I have some important stuff to do; those humans aren’t going to think for themselves, you know. Great gathering, everyone, see you around!” He left before anyone could even open their mouth.

*****

Later, when the night moved across the earth and shrouded the mountain of the gods as well, Viktor sat on the banister of one of the balconies of his palace, one foot dangling over the marble railing. He was staring at the sea of clouds in front of him, painted indigo by the night sky.

Christophe had once asked him what it felt like to plant thoughts in the heads of humans, and Viktor hadn’t been able to answer him at the time. “I can’t really describe it. I think you have to do it to understand,” he’d had to say.

It had gotten him thinking, though, and if he had to answer the God of Prophecies again, he would say ‘planting’ wasn’t really the right word. It was more like making a fire, like ‘igniting’ thoughts. He put all the elements in the mind of a human: the dry twigs, some branches and a little spark of thought. Sometimes it lingered for a while, glowing promisingly, but extinguished eventually, tossed aside or forgotten. But if it caught fire, it was overwhelming and unstoppable, spreading until everything was alight and burning.

Humans weren’t even aware of it, they often thought they came up with their brilliant ideas themselves, and called themselves ‘more intelligent’ than others when in fact, their minds were just a little more flammable. 

“Once it catches fire, the inevitable unfolds,” Viktor muttered under his breath. He knew no one had been able to ascribe any meaning to those words, not like they could with the ‘thoughts break apart’. To most, it seemed to be just the vague, meaningless part of the prophecy, but to Viktor, it was the only part he truly understood.

What he didn’t understand was how it fitted in the rest of the prophecy. How could he ignite a thought strong enough to catch fire when they were breaking apart? Who did this thought belong to and what was his part in all of this? 

A lot of the gods had been alluded to in previous prophecies, but it had always been clear to them what they had to do or why they had been in it, either by an epithet or animal they were associated with or so many other things. Often Christophe even asked what the gods’ plans were for certain humans who asked him for their future so he could make a prophecy based on that knowledge.

So why wasn’t this the case with Viktor? Why was this prophecy so vague and mysterious, even to the gods themselves, yet so clearly about him at the same time?

What if the prophecy wasn’t only about him, but also _for_ him? No, Viktor discarded the thought as soon as it had occurred. Gods didn’t get prophecies. Gods made their future themselves, they weren’t regulated by fate. They _were_ fate. Why was he even worrying about some stupid prophecy? It was just ridiculous nonsense, Christophe must have drunk a little too much nectar before coming up with it. Him being unable to understand the prophecy himself only proved what kind of rubbish it really was. 

The realisation eased the tight feeling in Viktor’s chest, and he let a deep sigh escape his body. When he stood up on the banister, he felt a little lighter. He was a god, and not just any god, some would say he was the most powerful of them all: the God of Thought; what could possibly happen to him?

*****

Viktor went on about his days, the prophecy slowly retreating to the back of his mind until it was almost forgotten. He just did what he always did, and ignited thoughts without worrying they would break or make the inevitable unfold.

He was good at what he did. And he knew it. Humans were a greedy species, cruel like most of the other animals, but for some reason nature had gifted them with a bigger and more advanced brain which made them all the more dangerous. Without him, they would be fighting each other in endless wars and kill each other for no reason at all. Without him, there would be no more humans to speak about.

Viktor climbed the stairs winding around the enormous golden globe in his palace, Makkachin happily pounding after him. None of the lights were coloured red, meaning there were no immediate threats or dangerous tensions between the different peoples. In other words: he could do what he wanted.

He’d had an idea recently, a new invention, the first one in what felt like an eternity: a mixture of sports and art involving ice and steel blades on shoes. In his mind, he’d seen people dance the most beautiful choreographies on the ice, alone or in pairs, and he couldn’t help but think of how more beautiful it would be to see them actually do it. Maybe they could dance on the ice as an offering or a tribute to him, he was bored of all those dog and bird votives anyway. He could ignite the idea to build a kind of ice floor in his temples, make the priests and priestesses dance for him in gorgeous robes and dresses.

But first, he had to test his idea. It was all fine in his head, but he was familiar with how weak and clumsy humans could be, unrefined and brute.

He considered the globe for a moment. First of all, it had to be cold enough so the ice was thick enough to dance on. The human shouldn’t be too big or heavy, and already quite athletic and graceful, as well as determined and ambitious. 

His eyes wandered over the continents, dismissing the deserts and the swamps, the jungles and the mountain tops. At last his eyes landed on a place that lay just on the edge with the night’s darkness. 

“Let’s pay them a visit,” Viktor said, and Makkachin wagged her tail as he stroked her soft fur.

The room of the human was dark when he entered. He made his way to the human’s bed on his tiptoes even though he knew the human couldn’t hear him, there was just something about the night and its silence that Viktor didn’t want to disturb. It was a boy he had found, only fifteen years old, small and athletic and living in one of the coldest habitable parts of the world. His grandfather was a blacksmith, as was his father, and they both loved him so much Viktor was certain they would provide him the shoes he needed.

Viktor could see strands of blond hair peeking from beneath the blankets. It was not always necessary for him to actually visit the human he wanted to give an idea or thought, but he had more chance of succeeding if he did. And it wasn’t like he had anything else to do really.

The human shifted, indicating that he wasn’t yet asleep. Viktor sighed, sleeping humans were easier, less resistant, even though there was always the risk of the thought getting a little twisted when ignited in sleep.

He closed his eyes and went to work. New ideas asked more time to generate, he had to picture what he wanted to realise in great detail, as vividly as if it were already reality, and then compromise it and morph it into a human-friendly spark. Then he could-

The air around him changed, a little warmer and colder at the same time, a little heavier and somehow more inviting. He wasn’t the only one in the room. 

He opened his eyes, turned his head to the window where he’d come from only moments before. There was a man standing in the middle of the room. The darkness seemed to hug him like a dear friend, like a lost child. His robes rustled softly on the floor, they were black as ink and seemed to be made from the clouds themselves. His skin was glowing, no _twinkling_ , and when Viktor looked closer, he could see it was covered with tiny stars. His hair was combed back and reminded Viktor of the sea at night time, but it were his eyes that stilled the breath in Viktor’s lungs, they were as dark as the heart of the universe. 

It had been such a long time since he had last seen those eyes. He never wanted to look away.

_Yuuri._

“I’ve come to put the boy to sleep,” Yuuri said. His voice sounded like a lullaby. “You should go.”

Viktor couldn’t move, had forgotten how. 

“Then I shall leave,” Yuuri said with a sigh when it became clear Viktor wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He turned to the windows again.

“No!” Viktor jumped up, his hand instinctively reaching out to the other god. “Yuuri… Stay.”

Yuuri, still half turned away, looked back at Viktor, hesitation evident on his features. 

“Please,” Viktor continued with a smile, “I don’t want to get in the way of your work. I’m almost finished with him and then you can put him to sleep. It won’t take long, I promise.”

Yuuri’s eyes darted from the bed to Viktor, and Viktor was certain he would leave anyway, but then he turned to the room again and took a step closer, a small smile around his lips. He nodded once and encouraged Viktor to continue with a gentle gesture of his hand.

Viktor turned to the child again, crouching so he was on the same level. Since he had already been able to turn the idea into a spark before Yuuri had entered the room, he just had to bend over the bed and whisper it in the child’s ear. The boy grunted, turning around beneath his blankets when Viktor drew away again.

“He’s all yours,” Viktor said as he stood up, turning to Yuuri with a smile. 

Yuuri had been watching closely, and Viktor noticed he had come a little closer while doing so. His gaze shifted to Viktor with a little frown.

“Which thought did you give him?” he asked. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course,” he hastily continued.

“Not at all,” Viktor assured him. On the contrary even, he was glad Yuuri asked, almost relieved. “It’s this new thing I came up with not so long ago, I call it ‘ice dancing’. Not a great name, I know, but it’ll have to do until I find a better one. It’s this eh… Well it sounds kind of lame if I explain it, but I can show you if you want?”

“Show me?”

“Yes, if I touch you, I can-”

“No,” Yuuri said quite forcefully, snatching his hand away from Viktor’s fingers as if he got bitten by a snake.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor said, a little taken aback by Yuuri’s fierce reaction. “I didn’t mean to- I can try it another way.” 

He lifted his hand again, slowly. Yuuri eyed it suspiciously, he seemed ready to retreat and vanish into the night any second.

“Don’t worry, I won’t touch you,” Viktor said. “I promise.” He seemed to be making a lot of promises that night.

Yuuri’s eyes were still doubtful, but at least he seemed to relax a little more, seemed to be breathing again.

Viktor’s hand paused in front of Yuuri’s eyes. “Close your eyes,” Viktor said softly, closing his own as well. 

And he showed Yuuri how he pictured the ice dancing. He showed him a man, his pink suit jacket adorned with gold and shimmering in the darkness, and a vast expanse of ice as far as the eye could reach. There was music, a song he had once heard at a court on earth: a man’s voice, string instruments, human language. The dancer’s blades were made of gold, flashing as it caught invisible light, leaving white powdery trails behind. He danced and he jumped and he spun as if he had never done anything else in his life and never would, as if it was his sole purpose on this earth. 

The music ended and the figure stopped, the image of him hugging someone who wasn’t there slowly fading away.

Viktor lowered his arm and opened his eyes. Yuuri’s were closed for a second longer, and when they finally fluttered open, Viktor was caught off guard by the intensity of them. 

“That was beautiful,” Yuuri whispered, and somehow his voice seemed to still belong to the silence. “He was beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Viktor felt a soft smile curl around his lips, but Yuuri was still staring at him with those dark and intense eyes.

Viktor cleared his throat, looked away before he got lost. “I just gave him the basics, though,” he said, gesturing at the child, “with the potential of what I just showed you. But it’s a little like a treasure, locked away in palaces and rooms and boxes and more boxes, and he’ll have to make his way to the actual treasure one step at a time.” 

He glanced back at Yuuri. The other god was also staring at the boy now, one corner of his mouth curved up slightly. Viktor had never known darkness could look so kind.

“Oh,” Yuuri said, snapping out of whatever had been going on in his mind, “I should probably put him to sleep now.” 

He made his way to the bed and crouched like Viktor had done a couple of moments before. 

“Can I stay and watch?” Viktor asked uncertainly. He wanted to, he wanted it so bad, but Yuuri had seemed very keen on keeping their time in each other’s company as limited as possible, so he felt like it was only fair to ask.

“Yes,” Yuuri said after a short pause. 

With his thumb, Yuuri slowly traced one horizontal line on the boy’s forehead, followed by a vertical line on each eye. He was muttering something under his breath. Viktor couldn’t hear what he was saying exactly, but it almost sounded like a song.

Viktor sat down on the window sill, suddenly finding it difficult to keep standing. He felt warm and relaxed, as if the air around him was made of safety.

Yuuri turned around to him when he was finished, his eyebrows drawing close to each other when he caught sight of Viktor sitting by the window. He stood up and came to stand beside Viktor, facing the window and the night outside. Whatever it was that had been on his mind and made him look so pensive, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Do you always have to visit the humans to put them to sleep?” Viktor asked after a while.

“No, just the ones that have trouble sleeping, or a troubled mind. Or a god whispering inventions in their ears.” His eyes darted to Viktor for a second, and Viktor thought he could even see a teasing smile around his lips.

Viktor chuckled softly. “My sincerest apologies.”

“What about you?”

“It’s pretty much the same actually, if the thoughts aren’t very complex or innovative, I can do it from a distance, but when they are, or if I have to be absolutely sure that they catch fire I have to do it up close.”

“Catch fire,” Yuuri repeated, musing.

And Viktor explained to him how it worked, the spark, the unstoppable fire. The most powerful weapon in the world. 

They talked well into the night, and at a certain point Viktor stopped watching the night sky and its hundreds of stars. Instead he watched the thousands of stars on Yuuri’s skin, and he discovered that, at certain angles, Yuuri held the moon behind the darkness of his eyes. They were crescent, just like the one outside.

Viktor’s head rested against the cold glass, it had turned so heavy. As had his eyelids, it was almost hard to keep them open. Everything felt heavy now he thought of it, so very heavy. It tugged at him, the heaviness, settling on him as if the air itself was falling down on him.

“Viktor!” 

Viktor’s eyes flew open, though he couldn’t even remember them falling shut. 

“I have to go,” Yuuri said, his voice sounded strange, tinged with something close to… horror. “This was a mistake.”

“No, Yuuri, why-” but when he opened his eyes again --had he closed them again?-- the room was empty except for himself and the sleeping human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, don't hesitate to let me know what you thought! <3
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](https://skating-husbands.tumblr.com/).


	2. Chapter 2

Viktor visited the human again once. Twice. Five times. Ten times. Until he lost count. He told himself he wanted to check how the thought was holding up in the boy’s mind, how it was smouldering and growing. He told himself it was just a coincidence he only did so at night. He told himself he was not disappointed when he found the boy already asleep.

Yuuri was there, though. In Viktor’s mind. He was always there, in a corner, surrounded by the darkness, beautiful and unreachable and still a mystery even after a night of talking. 

Viktor had felt a little strange after their meeting, as if the heaviness hadn’t left him entirely. He knew what it meant, and he knew what he really shouldn’t be doing, what he really shouldn’t be feeling or hoping or wanting. But the heavy feeling had worn off quickly the following day, and Viktor felt as good as ever.

So why had the other gods warned him so much about the God of Sleep? If this was the only effect, just a warm and heavy feeling, why did they isolate him? Why did he isolate himself?

Now Viktor was thinking about it, he couldn’t remember the other gods telling him what Yuuri did exactly. They said he made them feel tired, which Viktor could agree on, because the heavy feeling must be what tiredness felt like. But they also said he weakened their powers, and Viktor’s were definitely not weakened or twisted. Or he didn’t think so at least; it made him wonder if he would know it in the first place. How should he feel if his powers were changing? How would he notice? Did it happen all at once or gradually so he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference? 

One day, as he was studying his globe, he knew the answer. Or he knew who might have the answer at least, and who would be willing enough to tell him --unlike Yakov. 

He went to visit him the following day. His palace was made of porphyry, bathing in the golden light from the small sun on its highest golden spire. Even when the night fell over the mountain, the darkness was never able to reach this place. 

“Viktor, what a pleasant surprise!” Phichit exclaimed when he opened the great doors of his palace. “Come in!”

Viktor smiled and stepped inside. He had only visited Phichit a handful of times, usually for parties, and the last one must have been over six hundred years ago. The interior hadn’t changed much, though, there were still breathtaking tapestries hanging on the walls, dazzling mosaics on the ceiling and floor, and everything was so bright it felt like you stepped inside the sun itself. 

“Pour a cup of nectar for our guest,” Phichit said even though there was no one else in the room. Not much later, though, there was a filled cup wiggling Victor’s way and he suddenly remembered Phichit’s living furniture. He picked it up, and wondered just how alive all the furniture was. He hoped he wasn’t hurting it. 

Phichit and he strolled through the gardens for a while, making small talk they both pretended to be interested in. 

“Okay, Viktor, tell me. Why are you here?” Phichit asked eventually, coming to a halt. He didn’t sound angry or annoyed Viktor only visited him when he needed something from him, he sounded gentle and understanding like Viktor knew he would. The God of Life wasn’t one to get angry easily. 

They had reached Phichit’s globe, floating above the still water of an undeep pond. It had all shades of orange and red and yellow, but Viktor didn’t understand its code.

“I encountered the God of Sleep some time ago,” he said, glancing at Phichit for a second to catch his reaction.

“Yuuri! How was he?” Phichit asked, his face brightening impossibly more at the mention of his friend.

“Fine, I think. He came to put a human to sleep while I was giving him a thought. We… ended up talking for the remainder of the night.”

“He stayed?” Phichit said after a pause. His voice sounded different, softer. Almost surprised.

Viktor nodded, staring at the water in front of him and the globe above it. The pause was longer this time, turning into a silence. 

“I just want…” Viktor faltered, not knowing what he wanted to say, not knowing what he should say first. 

“You can’t, Viktor. He won’t let you.” Viktor looked at Phichit, and was surprised to find his expression serious. It suddenly struck him how old the God of Life was, how all-knowing, something you could easily forget because of his bright smiles and careless demeanour. 

“But why?” Viktor asked, surprised by the undeniably desperate undertone in his voice. “My powers are not weaker, they haven’t changed. I’m still the same as I was before. Why does everyone stay away from him?”

Viktor didn’t know where it had come from, but there was anger rising inside of him. It was hot and ugly, strange and unnatural. 

“You felt warm and safe there in that room, didn’t you? With his lullaby voice softly talking to you. But there was a heaviness too, wasn’t there? So very very heavy.” Phichit’s gaze shifted from the globe to Viktor, and behind the warm glow of his eyes, Viktor could see pity filtering through. “You felt tired, Viktor.”

“It faded away quickly.”

“After he left.” Phichit sighed and turned to the globe again. “It’s not bad when you first meet him, it’s just the tiredness. But, Viktor, the more you see him the worse it gets. I know, it happened to me as well. It got to the point where there was a mass extinction on earth just because I couldn’t bring anything to life. I could barely even keep the creatures alive that were already there. I even…” he faltered, shaking his head to clear his mind from the bad memories. “It’s just better to stay away. For his sake as well, he didn’t choose this. He never wanted this. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone, it makes him feel horrible.” 

The silence surrounded them again, but Phichit’s words still hung heavily in the air. Despite the sun shining down on them from the spire, Viktor felt cold.

“Maybe you can start sending him letters too?” Phichit suggested, trying to lighten the air around them. “It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. It’s how I still keep in touch with him.”

Viktor nodded, trying to not look too defeated, too disappointed. All the words he still wanted to say dying on his tongue, leaving a bitter taste.

He stayed for a while longer, accepting another cup of nectar, smiling when Phichit showed him his hamsters, laughing politely at Phichit’s jokes to ease the tension of their earlier conversation. But it kept clinging to them, and Viktor knew Phichit was relieved too when he finally announced his departure.

“Thank you for having me,” Viktor said as he stood in the doorway, smiling at the bright God of Life. 

“Anytime,” Phichit said with a little bow of his head. His smile faded away quickly, though, replaced by the serious expression he’d worn at the pond. “Good luck, Viktor.”

Viktor didn’t know what to say in return, so he just nodded once, and left.

*****

~~Dear Yuuri,~~

~~I am writing you because I~~

~~Dear Yuuri,~~

~~How are you?~~

~~Dear Yuuri,~~

~~Whenever I see the night sky, I think of you~~

_Dear Yuuri,_

_I often recall our night together and how much I enjoyed talking to you. You seemed quite interested in the ice dancing (any suggestions for another name are always welcome), so I thought you would be interested in a little update as well. The thought has caught fire, I was worried for a while it wouldn’t because it stayed quite small and thin for a long time, but eventually it did! The child has told his family about it, and after some persuading they are experimenting with different blades for the shoes now. Meanwhile the boy is training and dancing and searching for suitable places to ice dance.  
I hope you are doing well and didn’t have to deal with any gods whispering ideas in a human’s ear when they should be falling asleep anymore._

_Yours truly,  
Viktor_

*****

Viktor waited. He waited a day, then a week, then a month. He lost hope after that.

Until a letter came, his name written in elegant handwriting on the envelope. The ink was black as night but shining in a deep navy blue when held under the right angles. Viktor’s heart was pounding so loudly it drowned out all the sound, and his fingers were trembling ever so slightly, barely noticeable, when he finally fumbled to open the envelope. 

_Dear Viktor,_

_I often find my mind wandering back to that night as well. Thank you very much for the update, I really appreciate it so please don’t hesitate to tell me more as it develops._  
I am doing well. I didn’t encounter any such incident anymore, but sometimes I am unsure as to how I feel about that.   
How are you? Did any new ideas strike since our last meeting? I would love to hear about them. 

_Yours sincerely,_  
Katsuki Yuuri  
God of Sleep 

_P.S.: a few suggestions: blade dancing, ice blading, dicing (a combination of dancing and ice, but it vaguely reminds me of something that already exists?)  
For some reason the word ‘skate’ seems appropriate for the bladed shoe, so maybe something in the line of ‘ice skating’?_

And so it began. Every letter came a little sooner, was a little longer. They talked about humans and gods and the stars and moon and sun. They talked about themselves, about their days, about their plans. They talked about everything and anything. And when they had talked about everything and anything, they still kept talking. 

But however much they talked in ink-written words, Viktor missed something. He needed something. It ached inside his chest, a dull and throbbing sting that wouldn’t leave.

‘It’s better than nothing’ Phichit had said, but Viktor started to wonder if nothing wouldn’t have been better after all. 

_I want to see you again._ He wrote in a letter one night when the darkness felt heavy on his shoulders and seemed to move his pen for him.

He regretted writing those words when the sun rose and hid the emptiness of his palace from view. Of course he had meant it, but he knew he hadn’t been allowed to say it. He had broken an unspoken rule between them and he was afraid the rule wasn’t the only thing that would fall to pieces.

His breath caught in his throat when he read the last words from Yuuri’s next letter. 

_I want to see you too, Viktor._

*****

Viktor had never been to the top of the mountain. He had wanted to, he had wanted to know what was there, what the earth looked like from that high between the clouds. But Yakov had told him not to, that it was only for the gods born out of the darkness, that he would only disturb the divine order.

His words seemed distant and surreal to Viktor now, something from a story. 

It had grown dark somewhere along the way, Viktor had barely noticed it happening until he was surrounded by blackness, the road behind him as if it was swallowed up, the road in front of him as if it had yet to be made. 

The birds were quiet, or maybe there were none in these parts of the mountain. Viktor suspected it was the latter, because the silence sounded too much like void. His breaths seemed to pierce the air, deafening. 

Viktor didn’t mind it, though, the dark and the silence. There was a spring in his step as he made his way further up the mountain, going fast despite the steep climb. He enjoyed the walk, enjoyed the anticipation and the company of the stars high above. 

He was starting to think the mountain was going on endlessly when he heard something. Something like… running water. He looked around for a river or a creek, but the grass and rocks were as plain as ever. When he looked back in front of him, he could see something peeking over the horizon. 

As he came closer, the something turned into a roof, and as he came closer still, not realising he was almost running by now, the roof turned into a palace. It wasn’t like any palace Viktor had ever seen. It was taller than it was wide, stories upon stories upon stories, each a little smaller than the last, and each provided with its own little roof that bent towards the stars in the sky at the corners.

Viktor felt a calmness settling inside of him at the sight, a tranquility he had never felt before. 

Just as he hadn’t noticed he had quickened his step earlier, he didn’t notice himself coming to a halt either, too busy marvelling at the unusual palace. He took a deep breath, held it for a couple of seconds, and let it escape slowly. Then, he made his way to the door.

The knocker was light and soft as the night clouds, but still landed with a heavy thud reverberating through the wooden frame. There was no reaction, and Viktor tried again. When the door still remained closed, he turned around, his shoulders a little more slumped than when he’d arrived. Yuuri was probably out putting humans to sleep, maybe Viktor could come back lat-

The door creaked behind him, and Viktor whirled around. 

He was there, looking hesitantly outside from around the door. When he spotted Viktor standing at the bottom of the steps, he opened the door completely.

“Viktor?” 

At the sound of Yuuri’s voice, Viktor felt a smile appearing on his face, felt something inside of him breaking open and spilling warmth through his whole body.

“I thought I could deliver my letter myself this time,” he said, waving the envelope in his hand. He made his way back up the stairs.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said as he accepted the envelope, but he didn’t sound very grateful. He was staring at the letter in his hands with wide eyes. 

Victor shifted to his other foot, scratched the back of his neck as he collected the courage to say his next words.

“So ehm… could I- could I maybe come inside?” he asked. 

It took Yuuri a while to tear his gaze from the paper in his hands and direct it to Viktor instead. Viktor didn’t know what his eyes wanted to tell him, but he figured it wasn’t a ‘yes, Viktor, of course. It was about time you came by!’

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Yuuri’s eyes shifted away from Viktor again, to the ground.

“What?” Viktor said after a pause, not sure if he had heard Yuuri correctly. 

Yuuri swallowed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come in. I’m sorry.” 

“Oh.” Viktor didn’t know what else to say. There were so many questions in his head, but he couldn’t make any of them leave his mouth. _Why?_ he wanted to ask. _But in your letter you told me you wanted to see me,_ he wanted to say. “I guess I’ll go then,” was what he did say.

Yuuri nodded, still looking at his feet. “I’m sorry, Viktor. It’s better this way.”

Viktor stood there for a second longer, half expecting and hoping Yuuri was joking and he would invite Viktor inside after all, half petrified because he couldn’t believe this was really happening. Yuuri wasn’t joking, though, and he didn’t say anything. So Viktor figured out how to move his legs again and turned around. He hadn’t liked descending the short staircase the first time, but it felt even worse now, every step making him feel heavier and heavier. 

At the bottom of the steps, Viktor turned around again.

“I don’t agree,” he said, looking up at Yuuri whose eyebrows drew together in confusion. “I don’t think it’s better this way, Yuuri. I don’t think you should be lonely.”

Yuuri’s mouth fell open slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. So Viktor resumed walking.

Even without the absence of the sound of a door falling shut, Viktor knew Yuuri was still standing there. He could feel his dark eyes on his back, pressing on his shoulder blades. But Viktor didn’t let himself look back again. Instead he kept walking, waiting for the darkness to surround him again. Had it been foolish of him to come all the way up here? To hope for something more than the letters? But wouldn’t he have regretted it if he hadn’t at least tried? 

Viktor was the God of Thought, but right now, he didn’t want to think. He wanted to walk away and keep walking until the darkness swallowed him whole.

“Viktor!”

Viktor kept walking, convinced his imagination was running away with his mind, making him hear the things he wanted to hear but weren’t there.

“Viktor! Wait!”

It was closer this time. More intelligible. Unmistakable. Yuuri’s voice. 

Viktor stopped, turned around slowly as if any sudden movement might break this illusion. Yuuri had come after him, he was standing a couple of feet away, his eyes shining with something Viktor hadn’t seen before. Something different from the usual sadness and void. Something beautiful and determined that brought out the moon in his eyes so breathtakingly. 

“Come inside. Please. You’ve had a long journey, I can pour you a cup of tea if you want to?”

Viktor couldn’t answer for a second. He hardly dared to believe Yuuri’s words, but at the sight of Yuuri’s expectant look and hopeful smile, a warm feeling seeped inside Viktor’s chest. 

“I’d love to,” he said, the corners of his lips turning upwards. Yuuri’s smile widened and it was the most beautiful thing Viktor had ever seen.

*****

The palace was cozy and inviting, making you feel at home from the first step you set inside. There was a lot of dark wood and low tables and soft lighting, and the air was just the right temperature. A soft melody filled the air, playing from an invisible source. Viktor didn’t recognise the instrument or the song, but he felt a happy calmness settle inside of him, as if it was an old, trusted friend.

“The music,” he said, standing still in the hallway, “it’s very… pretty.” There was something wrong with the words, as if someone had set his mouth to slow motion so he could only talk with long pauses in between. It didn’t bother him as much as it should, though, the music was way too beautiful to disturb with something so harsh as talking anyway.

Yuuri turned around from where he was leading the way for Viktor, and his eyes widened as he saw Viktor standing still in the middle of the room, eyes closed to listen to the song. He quickly clapped his hands twice, and the music stopped. Viktor opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times, it felt as if a fog was lifted from his mind even though he hadn’t noticed it settling down. 

“Maybe a little too pretty,” Yuuri mumbled before continuing his way. Viktor followed. 

A couple of minutes later, they were settled around a low table with a steaming cup of tea in front of them. Viktor wrapped his hands around the cup, feeling the warmth seep into his skin. 

“Your palace is stunning, Yuuri,” Viktor said, looking around and admiring the room they were in, beautiful in all its simplicity. Yuuri nodded in thanks, a shy smile on his lips at the compliment. 

“I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. I’m glad I don’t live here alone, though, it’s so big for one person alone.”

Yuuri’s words reminded Viktor of his own palace with its large halls and rooms twice the size of the ones here. “Do you share it with your sister?”

Yuuri nodded, swallowing his tea. “Yes, but she’s out reading the stars at the moment.”

“That must be really nice,” Viktor said, smiling warmly at Yuuri. 

They sat there in the low light of the room, talking and drinking tea, and Viktor felt the heaviness settle down on him again, just like that night in the bedroom of the human child. He didn’t mind; he wanted to let it bear on him, to let it take him somewhere he had never been before. He felt warm and safe and happy sitting there with Yuuri and the heaviness. Warmer and safer and happier than he had felt in a very long time.

“Are you tired, Viktor?” Yuuri asked in the middle of a conversation. Or maybe it had been silent for a while, Viktor couldn’t recall. Yuuri’s eyes seemed to be searching his face, his eyebrows drawn together in concern.

Viktor shrugged. “It’s alright.”

Yuuri shook his head. “Don’t lie to me, Viktor. I can tell you’re tired. It’s time for you to go back before it gets worse.” He stood up and went to stand at the other side of the room.

“What are you doing?” Viktor asked, standing up as well, but finding it a little more difficult than he had anticipated. Okay, maybe he was tired.

“If I stand farther away, maybe the effect will slow down.”

“But then you’re so... far away,” Viktor whined, pouting a little as he watched the distance between them. Yuuri laughed softly at the other end of the room, and Viktor wanted nothing more than to run to him and make him laugh more. 

They made their way to the front door, Yuuri keeping his distance and Viktor wobbling a little on his feet. Once at the door, Viktor turned around to Yuuri, taking a step closer, but Yuuri mirrored his movement backwards.

“Can I visit you again?” Viktor asked, urgency seeping through in his voice more than he had wanted to.

Yuuri didn’t answer immediately, staring at Viktor while he was considering what to say. “Yes,” he said eventually, and Viktor’s face broke open in a wide smile. “But you can’t stay long, and you have to tell me when you start feeling tired. You have to, Viktor!” Yuuri repeated when Viktor opened his mouth, “Otherwise I’d rather you don’t visit anymore. I don’t want to hurt you.”

_You don’t hurt me,_ Viktor wanted to say, but Yuuri’s voice was firm, his eyes resolute, and he knew he couldn’t argue with him. He nodded.

“I will, Yuuri. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, don't hesitate to leave a comment! <3


	3. Chapter 3

Viktor visited Yuuri again once. Twice. Five times. Ten times. Until he lost count. Every time, he told Yuuri when he was growing too tired, and every time Yuuri sent him away when he did. Viktor noticed himself becoming more resistant against the tiredness though, or at least he tried to be, sometimes staying silent a little longer to test how far he could go. Yuuri always noticed, and Viktor always told him the moment he saw Yuuri’s eyebrows crease together.

One day, however, when he knocked on the door of Yuuri’s palace, he was greeted by a different set of pitch black eyes. 

“Hello, Mari,” he said after a stunned silence. He didn’t know if Yuuri had told her about his visits, but by the way she was looking at him, he figured she wasn’t surprised to see him standing on the doorstep.

“Viktor,” she greeted him with a little nod. She didn’t say anything else, but didn’t move to let him inside either. Viktor wanted to ask if Yuuri was around, but something about her gaze made him swallow back the words.

“You’re not very clever for a God of Thought, are you?” Mari said after a while, looking him up and down once. There was no contempt in her voice or eyes though, they were just… flat, bored. As if she had known it for a long time already.

“Maybe you and I just have another definition of clever.” 

Her eyes locked with his, narrowing briefly, but he refused to look away. After a couple of seconds, she looked away again, the bored expression back on her face while she leaned against the door frame.

“So how are you doing now? How many thoughts are working out how they should be? Six out of ten? Four?”

“I’m doing fine, thank you, nothing you should worry about,” Viktor replied coolly.

Mari sighed. “Look, Viktor, I don’t want to fight with you. I’m not angry with you for visiting my brother; he has been happier these past few months than he has been in centuries. But it’s getting dangerous, and you know it too. For him as well.”

Viktor was silent for a moment, avoiding her piercing gaze that seemed to see right through him.

“How come you don’t have an effect on other gods like Yuuri does?” he asked eventually, his eyes finding hers again.

“Gods are immortal,” she said, her fingers whirling in the air a little as she was thinking, conjuring a small cloud of smoke rising from her fingertips. “They can’t die yet they aren’t exactly alive either. They are something in between. I don’t really know why it doesn’t matter to Yuuri. I think when he was born, he kept a little too much of the darkness inside of him. And the power that comes with it.”

Viktor didn’t agree. He had seen Yuuri, had talked to him for endless hours, and he knew Yuuri wasn’t complete darkness. It wasn’t only the moon in his eyes and the stars on his skin; whenever Viktor looked at Yuuri he saw a shining light, a soft glow around him that lit up the whole room. 

Viktor didn’t know if the thoughts were written on his face or if Mari was thinking about something completely different, but a small smile appeared around her lips. “He’s outside at the river,” she told Viktor and stepped aside to let him in.

******

Viktor found Yuuri standing on the bank of a river. He was staring at the water, deeply in thought as if he was watching the very soul of it.

When Viktor came closer, he noticed the sparkles on the banks and Yuuri’s face weren’t mere reflections of the water. The river was like the night sky floating away, filled with stars. Viktor felt the need to come closer, felt as if something was tugging him towards it. But then his eyes found Yuuri again, and there was only one way he wanted to go.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said over the sound of the running river, his voice betraying how happy he was to see Yuuri again.

Yuuri’s head snapped around. “Stay there!” 

“Why?” Viktor asked, but he stopped walking, still a few feet away from where Yuuri was standing. “What is that?”

Yuuri turned around with one last glance at the river and made his way to Viktor. “It’s the River of Stars. When a person dies, the stars that formed their name drip out of the sky into the river. It grants me some of my powers when I bathe in it, it’s where I get the stars on my skin from. It’s only meant for gods that are born out of the darkness, though, so don’t touch it, I don’t know what would happen if you do.”

Viktor nodded. “I won’t.”

Yuuri’s eyes lingered on the river a while longer, his eyebrows drawn together a little. When his eyes landed on Viktor again, however, his features softened and his mouth curved into a smile. “Hello.” 

“Hello.” Viktor couldn’t help but smile as well.

“Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

Viktor followed Yuuri to a ridge with a stunning view of the earth beneath. There were almost no clouds in the sky, making it all the more breathtaking. They sat in silence for a while, having caught up with each other on their walk here, content to just be in each other’s presence. The world was wrapped in darkness, only a few small lights were flickering far away, as if the earth had her own constellations. 

“Do you remember when it was just us?” Yuuri’s voice was so soft it reminded Viktor of Yuuri’s smile when he was talking about something he loved.

“No,” Viktor said, because he didn’t. He had only ever been there when humans started to be self-aware, started to think about what they did and all the consequences their actions could bring along.

“Oh that’s right: ‘He was born in secret, somewhere between the creases of the sky, behind the stars’. Isn’t that what they say about you? No light, no darkness, just a mystery.” There was a smile playing around his lips. 

Viktor had never liked it, not knowing where he came from or where he belonged. He didn’t want to talk about it, so he asked: “What was it like before them?”

Yuuri’s eyes darted back to the world beneath. “It was quiet. Simple. It felt like we were the only real beings, like the rest of the world was just a playground. And in some way, it still feels like that sometimes, but there’s something different about humans. They’re so much like us.” His head turned to Viktor, considering him as if something was dawning him. “I think… It’s because of you. You make them like that. You make them think.” And there it was again, Yuuri’s small smile that made Viktor forget about everything else.

“I used to miss those times from time to time,” Yuuri continued, “but now, I like it better with the humans. I like it better with you.”

Viktor’s eyes widened, his breath stilled in his lungs. For a second, he had forgotten every word in the universe, every sound. He fixed his gaze on the horizon until he figured out how to breathe again.

“You’re always saying I shouldn’t be lonely anymore, Viktor,” Yuuri said after a while, “but I don’t think I’m the only one who was alone. The man you showed me the night we met, the skater, he looked lonely. And he looked so much like you.”

Viktor hadn’t noticed it back then, but now he thought back on it, he realised the figure had had silver hair and sad blue eyes. 

Somehow, Yuuri’s words had turned the silence heavier. Viktor could feel it pressing on his chest. Or maybe the weight had always been there, but only now could Viktor feel it so profoundly, as if his ribs were tired from holding it up for so long.

“The first time I saw you, it was at a party after a gathering.” Viktor didn’t know when he had decided to speak or why he was saying this of all things, didn’t know the words were coming out until they did. “I saw you from the balcony of Phichit’s palace, in the gardens. You were dancing. I had never seen anything so beautiful.” A warm feeling settled inside of him at the memory.

Yuuri huffed out an embarrassed laugh. “I had visited Phichit right before the gathering, I hadn’t meant to stay but… When I drink too much nectar, I become risky, and I can never resist the music, so I stayed there between the bushes so nobody would notice me. Guess I wasn’t so good at hiding after all.”

“But you saw me too, you looked up with a smile and called my name.”

Yuuri looked up at Viktor, his eyes slightly widened. “Really?” his voice was more breath than sound. 

Viktor nodded. “And then you disappeared.”

“I’m sorry, Viktor, I don’t remember.” 

“That’s alright.” Viktor had remembered it for two anyway.

*****

The first time he failed to ignite a thought, he didn’t think much of it. It happened sometimes, even though it was a little strange it had happened with such a simple one. Then he failed a second time, a third, a fourth, and even though he knew what was wrong, he didn’t let himself believe it. He went to visit humans more again, to whisper the thoughts in their ears, preferably when they were already asleep. Those thoughts mostly caught fire as usual, so Viktor kept silent about it, telling Yakov everything was going great whenever he asked.

One evening, Viktor was sitting on his balcony, watching the sun slowly disappear. Lights were being illuminated everywhere, and it reminded Viktor of the night he had sat on the ridge with Yuuri. 

He didn’t like being in his palace anymore. It was too big and too blank and too empty. It had always been this way, but only now did Viktor realise exactly how big and blank and empty it really was. Maybe Yuuri was right. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who had been lonely. 

He didn’t know why, but suddenly Viktor remembered the prophecy. _But two shall finally find._ Could it be-

Viktor didn’t allow himself to finish the thought. The prophecy isn’t about me, he reminded himself. But now the prophecy had shaken off the dust in his mind, it didn’t seem to want to go away so easily anymore, and another part drifted to the surface as well: _Where darkness meets mystery, thoughts break apart._ He still didn’t know what the first part was supposed to mean, but the second sounded eerily accurate now.

Viktor stood up. He had to do something to keep himself from thinking, so he went down to make humans think instead. The prophecy kept going through his head, though. Over and over again in an endless loop, making it impossible to think about anything else, to make others think about anything else. Sparks extinguished before they even left his lips, or were blown out in the air between his mouth and the ear of a human. It didn’t matter how much he tried, how long he took his time to prepare the spark or how tenderly he whispered it. 

He was frustrated by the time he gave up. Worse than frustrated, he was panicking. His skin was itching, his mind hurting from creating too many sparks that had nowhere to go. 

When he opened the great doors of his palace, he was met by a red glow. He swallowed, and closed the doors behind him slowly, the red immediately drenching him. His eyes were drawn to the globe at the other side of the room; it was covered in red lights. They were glaring at him, laughing at him, taunting him. He sank down against the wall, covering his mouth with his fingers. He faintly registered they were trembling. 

_thoughts break apart, thoughts break apart, thoughts break apart_

He sat there for a long time, watching the globe and its red lights that weren’t supposed to be there. He didn’t know how much time passed, minutes or hours or days.

Makkachin wagged her tail in excitement when he managed to get back to his feet. He hadn’t even noticed her lying down with her head on his lap. 

He ruffled her fur. “I’m sorry, Makka. I’m sorry.” 

He tried to fix it. Tried to turn the red to gold again. He went to humans again, and brought Makkachin along because she always helped him concentrate. It seemed to work a little, because when he came back there were fewer red lights. Still too many, but it was a start, and Viktor could finally breathe again.

He was considering the globe when he heard Makkachin bark outside, followed by the sound of laughter. Laughter he knew all too well.

“Viktor!” 

Viktor’s heart skipped a beat as he turned around and saw Yuuri coming inside through the high windows that led to the gardens, Makkachin trodding proudly in front of him.

“I wanted to knock, but Makkachin showed me the way,” Yuuri said, still laughing a little. 

Viktor couldn’t help but laugh as well. “She must really like you to accompany you into the palace.”

“Aw, I like you too Makka,” Yuuri said, crouching to rub her belly. Viktor felt something swell in his chest at the sight.

After a while, Yuuri stood up again. “I thought I might visit you for a ch-” his smile fell from his lips as he looked at Viktor. No, he wasn’t looking at Viktor. He was looking at- “When did this happen?” 

Viktor’s stomach dropped.

“When did what happen?” 

“Don’t play dumb, Viktor. You know exactly what I mean.”

“It’s nothing, Yuuri,” Viktor tried, shrugging and avoiding Yuuri’s eyes, trying to smile it off. It made his cheeks hurt. “Nothing to worry about.”

“That,” Yuuri said, pointing at the globe and the treacherous red dots, “is not nothing.”

For the first time since he had known Yuuri, Viktor wanted to be somewhere else. He didn’t want to have this conversation with him, didn’t want to hear what Yuuri had to say about it. He had told himself all those things often enough already.

“Viktor,” Yuuri’s voice sounded softer now, he came closer until he was standing only a few feet away. Viktor looked at Yuuri hesitantly, and Yuuri’s eyes were worried and kind. “This is not nothing. Tell me how I can help.”

Viktor blinked a couple of times at Yuuri. From all the things Yuuri could have said, Viktor would’ve never expected this. 

“Come with me,” he said, the words falling out quickly before Yuuri could change his mind and leave. “Please. It’s easier when they are asleep.”

“Okay, Viktor,” Yuuri said softly. “I’ll come with you.”

And so Yuuri came along with him to the houses of humans. Maybe they did sleep deeper which made it easier for Viktor to ignite thoughts, or maybe Viktor felt calmer with Yuuri there with him, happier and more certain that everything would be alright. He didn’t know what it was exactly, but it worked. After a week, there were considerably less red lights on the globe. 

It happened where it had all started. In the room of the human child where they had met. They sat next to each other with their backs against the wall, taking a break from all the putting to sleep and igniting of thoughts they had done. Viktor had shown Yuuri another routine he had made for the figure skating. This time, the skater had black hair and stars on his skin. 

“It was beautiful,” Yuuri whispered when it was over, sounding a little breathless for some reason.

“He was beautiful,” Viktor whispered back. He was fighting the need to close his eyes so he could keep looking at Yuuri, but it was getting harder by the second. 

Somehow, their faces had come incredibly close. Viktor could trace the constellations on Yuuri’s skin, could see all the different kinds of black that were really in his eyes. Slowly, without really realising it, their faces inched closer still.

Viktor paused when they were only inches apart. “Do you want this, Yuuri?” However much Viktor wanted this, however much he wanted to bridge the last breath between them, he still remembered Yuuri’s hesitance at the beginning of their friendship. Or whatever this was. Yuuri could say anything and Viktor would listen, would go away if he had to. 

“Yes,” Yuuri said, the struggle visible in his eyes, audible in his voice. 

Viktor slowly raised his hand and tenderly cupped Yuuri’s cheek. He could hear Yuuri’s breath catching at his touch, could feel the warmth of his skin as he leaned in.

Viktor’s eyes fell closed when their lips met.

*****

He was small, almost like a human child. His hair was long, longer than he had ever worn it or ever remembered wearing it. It flowed behind him like a silver curtain of rain.

As far as he could see, he was surrounded by clouds. Soft as pillows, dense like fog. He called for someone, he didn’t know if he was calling for anyone specific or just calling to make sure he wasn’t alone. No one answered.

He took a step forward, and was surprised by how wobbly his legs were. He had to make his way through the clouds carefully which slowed him down, made it seem as if he wasn’t moving forward at all. Maybe he wasn’t. It didn’t even matter all that much; he didn’t know where he was going, what he was looking for. No, not what: who. Somehow he knew he was looking for a someone. Maybe more than one. 

A lot of time passed while he was taking his tiny steps. Or maybe it just seemed that way, it was difficult to tell. He found himself lying on the clouds suddenly, not remembering when he had stopped walking or when he had decided to lie down, but he was there now. The sky was blue above him, reflecting his eyes, the sun was burning far away. 

He hadn’t found who he was looking for, but somehow he was sure they would find him. If he just lay there for a while, they would find him. They always found him.

It was getting dark, and all of a sudden, Viktor felt this immense joy inside of him. A relief and happiness that was so overwhelming he felt his throat tighten and his eyes grow wet. He watched the sky as it turned light and dark at the same time, until their difference didn’t matter anymore, until it didn’t exist anymore. It was beautiful, breathtaking. 

And all Viktor could think about was how he had finally found who he was looking for. How he had never felt more at home.

*****

Viktor opened his eyes to Yakov’s face hanging over him.

“Looks like someone decided to wake up after all!” 

_Wake up? Gods didn’t-_

Then he remembered. The red lights, Yuuri’s help, the kiss. 

He wasn’t even sure if they really had kissed. All he remembered was soft skin beneath his fingertips followed by darkness. 

“What happened?” he asked, blinking against the bright light surrounding him. He was lying on something soft, and there was a blanket draped over him. _A bed. This is a bed. I’m lying in a bed._ He tried to get up into a sitting position, but everything started spinning as soon as he lifted his head, so he fell back into the pile of pillows. 

Yakov cursed through gritted teeth.

“You don’t even remember-” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Viktor noticed other gods standing around him. They were looking at him with worried expressions. He felt like one of those humans who were sick or dying.

_Am I-_

“Yuuri brought you here,” Phichit said, taking a step closer with a quick glance at Yakov. “We’re so relieved you’re awake again, Viktor, you had us worried-”

Viktor didn’t hear the rest. Everyone seemed to be so far away all of a sudden, as if Viktor was drifting away from them. Yuuri had taken him here, but he wasn’t here now. He had to know Viktor was fine, had to know he was awake. 

“Yuuri. Where is he?” he asked, his voice sounded raw and hoarse. How much time had passed exactly?

“Somewhere you should stay away from,” Yakov barked before Phichit could answer. He opened his eyes again, focusing them on Viktor with an intensity that sent a chill down Viktor’s spine. “Leave us.” His voice was quiet, but that only made it all the more frightening.

The other gods shuffled out of the door, Phichit casting a last pitying glance Viktor’s way before he closed the door behind him. Viktor swallowed, closed his eyes for a brief moment, partially because he was still so very tired, partially because he was bracing himself for what was about to come. 

Yakov didn’t say anything for a while, Viktor could hear his footsteps as he walked around the room. After a couple of minutes, he heard the creaking of wood and a deep sigh.

“Viktor,” Yakov began, followed by a pause that was so long Viktor almost thought he would leave it at that. Almost. “Why?”

The anger in his voice was almost tangible, charging the room with something ominous. Viktor knew that no matter what he said, he had already lost. Yakov had made up his mind and no force in the universe would be able to change it. 

But that was the one thing they had in common. 

“Why not?” he said. He opened his eyes to find Yakov’s widening, his mouth pulling into a hard line.

“Excuse me?” 

“I like Yuuri, we’re friends. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Do you even listen to yourself?” Yakov’s voice was shaking. The quiet anger was boiling now, ready to erupt any moment in a white-hot rage. “How long has this been going on anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter, I’ve got everything under control.”

“Under control?” Yakov bellowed, jumping up from his chair. “You call this _under control_? Look at what he did to you!”

Viktor looked him dead in the eye. “I’m. Fine.” He couldn’t keep his calm anymore, Yakov’s anger was getting at him, reaching its claws right through the foggy tiredness, right through his carefully constructed composure he held at all times when he was in Yakov’s presence. He could feel them tightening around his throat. “He was helping me.”

“Helping you? He is the reason why you even needed help in the first place! Don’t be so naive. Don’t be fooled by what he says he is or pretends to be. He is born from the darkness and he always will be, nothing’s ever going to change him from destroying you.” 

“Don’t. Don’t you dare. Yuuri doesn’t want to hurt anyone. It was an accident!”

“Accident? You fell asleep, Viktor!”

“I fell in love!” Viktor was yelling by now, his throat hurting. His chest was heaving for some reason, as if he’d run around the world and back. “I fell in love,” he repeated, softer this time, saying it more to himself than to Yakov. 

Yakov huffed out a bitter laugh. “Oh Vitya. You didn’t fall ‘in love’. I asked Mila and Sara while you were still sleeping, I thought they did this for some ridiculous reason or game, but they told me they didn’t do anything. I asked them to take it away from you anyway, but they couldn’t. They said it was something powerful burning inside of you, something inevitable.”

Viktor’s eyes widened, his heart was racing and sweat was gathering on his brow and palms. He had never sweated before. 

“It isn’t real love, Viktor. It was your own thought, you did this yourself. So now it’s time to stop it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, let me know what you think! <3


	4. Chapter 4

Viktor was awake, but he might as well have been asleep. His globe was covered in red lights, more than there had ever been before. Thoughts fell apart while they were still inside his mind, falling to pieces in nonsensical shards. They were sharp, maddening. 

He hadn’t seen Yuuri since he had fallen asleep. He had wanted to visit him, but Yakov held him under surveillance at all times, supposedly to ‘make sure he was entirely recovered’. He wondered why Yakov had even bothered to make up a lie. 

He was certain of one thing, though. If what he felt for Yuuri wasn’t given to him by Mila and Sara, but was indeed his own doing, then there was no force in the universe that could ever change it. Not even himself. Still, he wondered how it could have happened in the first place, how he had ignited a thought within himself without him noticing or even recognising it for what it was.

Outside, the clouds were drifting by as if nothing had happened. As if everything was how it should be. And Viktor asked himself if things would have been easier if he had never met Yuuri, if he had never had the idea of figure skating and had never visited the child to whisper it in his ear. Undoubtedly, things would have been easier, but the thought of his life without Yuuri also made him feel sick. He wouldn’t want to exist in a universe where he had never met Yuuri. 

It was growing dark, the sun slowly retreating from view, yet still lingering as if it was bad at saying goodbye. It reminded Viktor of something, something he had thought was real, but turned out to have come to him while he was asleep. He watched the sky grow darker and darker, until it wasn’t exactly day anymore but not yet night either. And Viktor felt it again, the surge of something bright, something euphoric pulling at him, as if his body knew something his mind didn’t. 

But as the darkness surmounted the light to make room for the stars in the sky, it dawned on Viktor. Like a thought catching fire and setting everything aflame. 

_Nothing’s ever going to change him from destroying you_ , Yakov had said when he had just woken up. And maybe Yakov was right, maybe nothing would ever be able to change Yuuri. 

But maybe something could change Viktor.

*****

“Are you sure you’re ready, Vitya?” Yakov asked, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.

Viktor nodded and smiled his old careless smile that had fooled the other gods for centuries. “Yes, absolutely. I’m feeling much better lately so I’d like to try visiting a human to see if I can ignite thoughts again. I’m fairly certain I will.”

Yakov eyed him for a while. Viktor braced himself, because he knew what was coming next.

“This better won’t be a trick to-”

“Of course not, Yakov,” Viktor interrupted him. His voice sounded light and cheerful, but he looked the older god straight in the eye while saying it. “I’ve realised what an effect Yuuri had on me, and I understand now it’s safer for both of us if we don’t see each other again.”

Yakov searched Viktor’s face closely for any trace of dishonesty before he nodded. “Okay, if you’re so certain. Off you go.” 

Viktor could hear Yakov wasn’t convinced, but he hugged him with a bright ‘thank you’ and left his palace before he could change his mind. 

He followed the road down until he knew he was out of sight and had made sure he wasn’t being followed. He left the road and made his way through the woods to another road, leading upwards.

Of course Viktor wasn’t feeling better. Nothing had changed really since he had woken up almost four months ago. Something had broken inside of him when he fell asleep, had damaged his powers until he could no longer use them. He knew it was irreparable, could feel it in his very being. But there was one way he thought could offer a solution, one chance to still be a god. He didn’t know if it would work, it might as well make things even worse, but there was still a slim chance it would save him. So he had to try.

It wasn’t his usual way to the top of the mountain. Yuuri had shown him this hidden path once when they were strolling around, telling Viktor how he used to take this one every time he visited Phichit. It was clear it hadn’t been used a lot lately; it was overgrown with bushes and ferns, and Viktor had to watch his every step to not stumble over the rocks. It was also steeper than his usual path, he felt weariness pull at his muscles, already weakened without his powers.

Eventually, he made it, but there was no time to catch his breath. He went right up to the front door and knocked as hard as he could. He kept knocking until someone opened the door and he almost lost his balance.

“Viktor?”

For a moment Viktor forgot what he was doing there, why he had come all this way and what had all led up to this point. He could only think of wrapping his arms around Yuuri and holding him close. He immediately felt the tiredness pull at his skin.

Yuuri returned the embrace for a second, but disentangled himself quickly to put some distance between them.

“Viktor, what are you doing here?”

“I have an idea!” Viktor said, his tongue strangely heavy inside his mouth. He was struggling with the fog gathering in his mind; he didn’t have time for this, he had to explain it to Yuuri _right now_. “I don’t know if it will work, but I have to try.”

“What do you mean? You don’t look well, are you alright?”

Viktor’s breath stilled in his lungs, his distress and hastiness of only a moment before gone. He looked at Yuuri. His throat tightened. “No,” he said, “I’m not alright, Yuuri. My- my powers are…”

He couldn’t make the words leave his mouth. Didn’t allow them to. He knew it in his head, that his powers weren’t working anymore. That he wasn’t a god anymore. But he couldn’t say it out loud, couldn’t let it become real.

His eyes had grown wet, something he couldn’t even remember ever happening, and he rapidly blinked them dry.

“But I think I know a way that might fix it,” he was glad his voice didn’t break or waver.

“How?” Yuuri asked. Viktor saw the hope in his eyes, eagerness to help Viktor and find a solution together. His heart swelled at the sight.

“Bathing in the River of Stars.”

The eagerness disappeared, turned into shock. “Viktor… you can’t!” Yuuri was staring at him with wide eyes. 

Viktor noticed that Mari had appeared in the doorway behind Yuuri at the other side of the room. Her eyes were wide too, but more of surprise than the horror he could read on Yuuri’s face.

“It’s my only chance, Yuuri.” 

“No, it can’t be. We don’t even know if it will work, it could make everything worse!”

“I know.”

“Then you know how crazy it is to even take the risk! Tell him, Mari, tell him how dangerous it is.” He turned to Mari, his eyes pleading, looking for support as if he was about to fall. Viktor hated seeing him like this, hated himself for driving him to the edge of the cliff.

“It might kill you,” Mari said. Her eyes were sad now, but Viktor knew she understood him. 

“But what if it won’t?” He turned his gaze back to Yuuri. “Yuuri, remember you told me it was only meant for gods born out of the darkness? And another time when you said how I’m a mystery because no one knows exactly where I came from?” He caught Yuuri’s eyes, didn’t allow them to drift away to Mari again. “I saw these… things when I was asleep, and it got me thinking. What if i’m neither born out of darkness or light? But out of both?”

“What are you saying exactly?” Yuuri asked, blinking a couple of times. 

“What I’m saying is: Maybe it doesn’t matter where I was born, maybe it matters _when_ I was born. And maybe I have enough darkness in me to survive the River.” 

Only silence followed, a long one, heavy with too much information and too many decisions that had to be made.

“Please, Yuuri,” he whispered. “I don’t think I can do this without you.”

Yuuri looked at him, and all Viktor wanted to do was hold him in his arms and take away all the fear and pain he was feeling, to tell him everything was going to be alright.

“You stay here, Mari,” Yuuri said, there was a hard edge to his voice, and Viktor could see it reflected in his eyes as well.

“Yuuri, I can’t-”

“Stay here.” He closed his eyes for a moment, his hands were balled into fists, his shoulders were shaking a little. “Please.”

When he opened his eyes again, he stared right into Viktor’s soul. “Let’s do this. Together.”

They went outside in silence, but their heads were still too filled up with the words before to really notice or care. Even the River was silent tonight. Still a chill ran over Viktor’s spine as they approached, his heart rate speeding up.

They stopped at the banks, Viktor swallowed. The water looked calm, as if it wasn’t even moving at all. He felt like he was looking into the universe itself, and he wondered if the River even had a bottom, or if it plunged right into infinity. What if it would take him away? What if it would swallow him whole?

“It’s going to work.” Viktor looked up in surprise. Beside him, Yuuri was staring at the water as well, his eyebrows drawn together in determination, his lips a firm line. His expression softened a little as his eyes met Viktor’s, but the resoluteness was still clear in them. “They don’t see things when they sleep. Humans never see things. You’re going to make it, Viktor,” his voice cracked on Viktor’s name, “You have to.”

Viktor looked at the water once more and took a deep breath. He nodded. He had to.

“Will you hold my hand?” he asked after he had taken off his robes.

He felt Yuuri’s hand slip into his, holding on tightly. “I’m right here,” he said softly, and Viktor noticed he had taken off his robes as well.

Yuuri went in first, not letting go of Viktor’s hand. He watched Viktor closely, nodded at him in encouragement. A burning pain jolted through Viktor’s leg as soon as his toes hit the water. He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, but couldn’t keep the groan inside. 

“Are you alright?” Yuuri asked in alarm. Viktor nodded and put his foot down, then his other one. The first contact with every new inch of skin hurt, but it lessened little by little. The water was ice cold and burning hot at the same time, clawing at him, the stars seeming to cut his skin as they drifted past. 

“You’ll have to go a little deeper, Viktor. Is that okay?” Yuuri asked, holding both of his hands by now, gripping them so tightly Viktor thought he might break his bones. Viktor nodded again, or at least he thought he did, and crouched so the water rose up to his neck. He didn’t know anymore what he was or wasn’t doing, he could only tell he had moved at all by the pain rising with the water level. He hissed. Yuuri gripped his hands tighter. “Come on, Viktor.” 

His voice seemed to come from very far away. The water and the pain kept rising rising rising until he couldn’t breathe anymore. He was surrounded. By the water, by a white noise, by everything at once. There were colours everywhere, feelings everywhere. Calmness, happiness, relief, yellow, excitement, bliss, red, green, orange, shock, hurt, anger, blue, purple, sadness, loss, pain. Darkness. 

As soon as they had come, everything was gone. It was dark, no sun, no moon, no stars. He was alone. The darkness was alone, drifting through nothingness. Lost.

From several worlds away, voices drifted through.

“No, Mari. Why are you here? You prom-”

“I’m sorry, Yuuri. I wouldn’t be here if I could. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t come closer! He can do it, he can do it.”

But what if the darkness didn’t have to be lost? What if it didn’t have to be alone? What if there was a way for the darkness to be found? To be happy? Maybe it was just different than everyone expected it to be, than everyone forced it to be. 

The darkness was growing lighter, yet it never stopped being darkness. It turned lighter and lighter until it was neither dark or light, until it was also both at the same time. They held Viktor in their arms, whispered in his ear in a language he didn’t know but understood anyway. He could feel their energy tingling in his fingertips, trickling through his skin, more and more and more until it was coursing through his whole body, whirling inside of him until he was not himself for a moment, not a god, only energy.

It would take him, he knew it, it would burn through his skin and replace it with the all-consuming brightness that was surrounding him. He knew he could be this all-powerful, invincible force for eternity, could be as omnipotent and immense as Darkness and Light themselves. Could rule the worlds and gods and the entire universe with them.

He didn’t want that. Someone was still holding his hands. He didn’t want to let them go.

_Where darkness meets mystery, thoughts break apart._

He pushed the energy back, forced it out of him, screaming as it resisted. He held on to those hands, gripped them tighter for strength. The energy was giving way to him, pouring out of him slowly. He kept forcing it out until there was only a handful left. 

_Once it catches fire, the inevitable unfolds._

The darkness had gone. The light as well. He felt cold where they had wrapped their arms around him. But he was still holding someone’s hands.

_The known world crumbles, but two shall finally find._

He opened his eyes. 

“Viktor!” Yuuri cried out, and Viktor almost stumbled as Yuuri wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. Mari was there too, standing on the banks with smoke circling around her, laughing in shocked relief and cursing beneath her breath. 

Still a little dazed, Viktor returned Yuuri’s embrace. 

“I knew it,” Yuuri said with a thick voice. “I knew it.” He drew back a little after a while so he could look Viktor in the eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Viktor blinked a couple of times. How _was_ he feeling? He wasn’t feeling anything really, or nothing bad at least. The water and the stars didn’t hurt anymore but caressed his skin as they drifted past, and he didn’t feel tired even though Yuuri had embraced him and was still holding on to him. He felt more awake than he had ever felt before. Inside his chest, there was brightness, joy and strength and so much energy.

“Great. I’m feeling great,” he said, a wide smile curling his lips. 

Yuuri’s eyes lit up, but he still sounded tentative when he asked: “And your powers?”

“They’re back, but they feel… different.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Viktor cupped Yuuri’s cheek, and noticed something twinkling on his own skin. At first he thought it was a droplet of water, but now he could see what it really was. A tiny star.

“I think I belong with you now.”

*****

_”And so, Viktor wasn’t the God of Thought anymore, but had become the God of Dreams instead. That’s the moment humanity lost its mind. We were never really good at thinking for ourselves to begin with. But the God of Dreams still guides us sometimes in our sleep. And he weaves us the most beautiful stories, because every night, he comes to put us to sleep with his God of Sleep, whispering dreams in our ears.”_

_“So are they finally happy, Mommy?”_

_“Yes, darling. They have finally found.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone for reading!! <3
> 
> And a special thanks again to [Agasthiya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agasthiya/pseuds/Agasthiya) who is absolutely wonderful! <3
> 
> I love to hear your thoughts, so don't hesitate to leave a comment!


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